


Inevitability

by Gayani



Category: Dexter (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Dark and Twisted, F/M, Post Season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-31 15:31:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1033329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gayani/pseuds/Gayani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She comes to my door like clockwork, four times a week. <br/>Also posted at FF.net</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Howl

She comes to my door like clockwork, four times a week. She won’t speak. She won’t even look me in the eye until we’re naked and our bodies are joined. That moment when I enter her is the only time I recognize her. The spark comes back to her eyes, her soul is laid open and bare and I know that this is my Deb.

I do what I can. I want to hear her moan. I want to know that she’s alive, that she wants to be here with me. But for her this is a punishment. She doesn’t come here for me. She doesn’t do this for her pleasure. She does it to feel something. Because this is the only time when she isn’t numb. And when she isn’t numb she can feel her pain. She can exorcise her sins. She can feel like a monster with the only other monster she knows.

She is on top as usual. She pushes onto me hard. Her nails dig into my chest. Her eyes never leave mine. When it’s done she rolls off of me and away. She can no longer look at me. I study the curve of her spine, the way each vertebrae pushes against her skin. She has become scarily thin.

“Deb” I say quietly, low. It’s enough to launch her upright and onto the edge of the bed, the bed sheet pooling around her lap.

She shudders when my hand brushes her bare back and her reaction makes me recoil. It’s these moments that prove to me that I am what’s wrong.

I watch as she gets up, finds her scattered clothes and starts dressing with her back to me.

“Are you going to talk to me?” I sound as helpless as I feel. Deb was right, I can’t control everything and that fact makes me finally understand fear.

She pauses, glances backwards in my direction, but stops short of looking at me.

“Now’s not the time.” Her voice is husky and hollow.

“Then when is?” I can hear the demand in my voice and I get up, finding my pants and putting them on as she finishes dressing.

“You won’t talk to me at work. You won’t even look in my direction. How am I supposed to know if you’re ok?” She still won’t turn and face me as I follow her out of the bedroom.

I stand behind her and watch her hand hover over the car keys sitting on the kitchen counter. I am fixated on her neck, thinking back to the first night weeks ago. The night of LaGuerta’s death.

* * *

Once the weeping had stopped she was eerily quiet. She followed my directions without argument as we arranged the bodies and cleaned up the mess. We were lucky it was through and through, I don’t know what we would have done if Debra’s bullet had been found in LaGuerta.

We barely made it back to the party in time, but we made sure we were seen. Deb’s face was stone and if everyone hadn’t already been shit faced it would have been a problem. Her tight grip on my hand was my only reassurance. By one I had scooped up Harrison and we were in the car, heading back to my condo. I knew without asking that Debra could not be alone tonight.

She followed me like a shadow through the door and was still immobile when I returned from tucking Harrison into bed. Her head was bowed, her hair half obscuring her face and my heart jumped. There were moments when Deb’s beauty would strike me, and this was one of them.

I stood awkwardly and waited for some sign of what she wanted. She slowly lifted her face and looked at me and I could feel a thousand things pass between us in that one breath. She was the one I’ve known as long as I can remember. We have endured, despite all my fuckery.

Her eyes still held mine when she reached for the straps of her dress and pushed them off her shoulders. I watched as her half naked body moved towards the bedroom. When she stopped at the doorway and looked at me I followed her in. The force was like a magnet. I couldn’t stay away if I tried.

That was the first night it happened. And just like each one since then, when she was done she moved away from me. I didn’t know what the appropriate response was. I was pretty sure one didn’t exist. She got up from the bed eventually and spent most of the rest of the night in the bathroom. I moved near the door and fell asleep listening to her sobs coming from the tiled floor. In the morning she was gone.

* * *

The keys scraping against the counter bring me back to the present. The growl escapes my throat before I can stop it. Deb straightens, startled.

I feel the rage building in my belly. The anger is comforting. I’m sick of suppressing it, hiding it from Deb. I’m tired of this two dimensional imitation of my sister. I want my Deb back. The one who is emotional, loud, swears ceaselessly.

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!” I’m spilling forth, the words overflowing from my tongue. Everything that has burdened me since Deb turned to stone. “Where is Debra Fucking Morgan? You can’t fucking leave me here. Can’t you see I love you? I need you.”

I drop to my knees in front of her spent, my arms circling her limbs. The fight has gone out of me and as usual I don’t know what to say.

I cling to Debra’s legs feeling like a small child. My vision is blurring and it takes a moment for me to realize that I must be crying. I don’t think I’ve done that in a long while. I pull back and stare up at her, but her face is a mask. I don’t see love and I don’t see hate. It is the same look she has given me for weeks now. I want to howl into the night.

“Please” I hear myself whisper. But it doesn’t sound right.

She is still unmoved and I finally let go. I sit back on my heels and wait for something else to break. I’ve already given more than I thought I could. It could have been seconds or hours, I can’t tell the difference anymore, but she steps back. She hesitates and I can see the confusion etched into her brow. But then her hand is on the doorknob and the door is swiftly opened and closed and I am alone once again. Haven’t I been all this time?


	2. Jagged Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting around to posting the rest of this story. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

Deb’s a different person at work. Most people chalk it up to grief over LaGuerta’s death. They have no idea how right they are. We’re at a crime scene and I watch Deb scowl at one of Masuka’s dirty comments. Angel nudges her and says something and Deb cracks a fake smile. I can see it from a hundred yards away, but she seems to fool him.

Angel has “unretired” as some may say. I guess whatever verve he lost for police work has been reignited by his loss. He seems to be handling it well, all in all. And with the happy distraction of his restaurant to boot, I would say he’s recovering nicely. Wish I could say the same for Deb. I can practically see the guilt eating away at her.

I make my way over to the group and lean over the bloody mess that was once a human being. Blood…so much of it. Sometimes I really enjoy my job. “What did I miss?” I chirp with my usual cheerfulness. Deb scowls again and allows Angel to fill me in while she slides away.

No one has really noticed her change in demeanor towards me. For a group of detectives they choose odd times to be wildly unobservant. I still duck into Deb’s office now and then and try to talk to her while she mutters how she’s swamped and tries to look for ways to skirt a conversation. She talks to me when she absolutely must in briefings and to assign me work. Apparently no one notices the cold shoulder she brushes my way.

By the time I leave the crime scene I’m itching to find the guy who did it. He seems to enjoy making his work look haphazard and passionate. But really he is cold, calculating…my type of fiend. If I hadn’t promised Deb that I wouldn’t steal anymore cases from homicide I would make this guy mine. But with everything that has happened the least I can do is turn my research in a different direction and quell my urges elsewhere.

* * *

That evening I stand outside Deb’s door and watch her through the window. She’s curled up on the couch, beer in hand, sitting absolutely still. She starts, her head spinning towards the door when I knock. When she sees me her eyes narrow. I lift the bag containing the burritos into her sight, smile and wave. She ignores me for a bit, and just when I’m about to start eating on her front porch she slowly gets up from the couch and unlocks her door.

I sit down next to her and pull out a burrito. “Eat.” I tell her the way I would tell Harrison. She stares at it as if it’s poisonous and I finally have to force it into her hand. “I haven’t seen you eat in weeks. So I’m not leaving until that’s gone.” Deb would have protested, but that would require speaking to me. Instead she sets down her beer and slowly peels the foil away from the tortilla.

I eat in my usual ravenous way while Deb picks at her food. By the time I’m done she seems to have taken all of two bites. I watch her as she stares at her dinner. Her feet are on the couch next to me and I lean against her upraised knees. She doesn’t flinch, so I rest against her more fully. Since my outburst the other night I’ve been feeling nostalgic, remembering the days when Deb was more herself.

I think back to one of my favorite memories. We were teenagers, Doris had died the year before and things were hard for Deb. She was alone most of the time and lately had seemed to give up on me and Harry. She didn’t argue when Harry would say we were going hunting. She didn’t protest at being left out. She knew she wouldn’t get her way. So instead she pulled away from us both. Harry didn’t seem to notice, but I did. And it bothered me in a way I couldn’t define. We had come home from school one afternoon and Deb had retreated up to her room without a word to me. Before dinner I stepped into the yard and found her sitting on the porch swing alone. I didn’t like the look on her face, so I sat down next to her and I covered her hand with my own. She seemed startled and looked up at me wide eyed.

“Do you still love me Deb?” I didn’t know what compelled me to ask. I hadn’t even realized I would pose that question until it was out of my mouth. Deb seemed taken aback as well.

“Always. No matter fucking what.” It was so earnest, so honest, so Deb. I knew in that moment, despite what Harry had told me a thousand times, Deb really would love me, no matter what. I found myself smiling at her, and the smile I got in return made my heart skip a beat. She scooted closer and leaned her head against my shoulder. We sat together in silence until we heard Harry’s car coming up the drive.

I hadn’t realized I was talking out loud until I hear Deb sniffling. I sit up and look at her tear stained face. “I remember.” She whispers. I want to ask her if it’s still true, but I already know that it is. And I’m afraid that even though it is true that she will realize I’m not worth it. I’m afraid I will see the regret in her eyes for the years we have shared.

“I remember her. How sure she was. How she knew what was right…I remember who I used to be.” Her voice is gravelly, laced with her pain. Her eyes burn into mine, the questions and doubts and everything that has transpired since the church is brimming there.

“Who am I now, Dex?” I cringe at the question. At the agony in her tone. I have wondered the same and I have no answers for her. My silence fuels her tears. I hate seeing Deb cry, so I do what I can. I pull her closer, wrap my arms around her, bury her face into my shoulder.

Eventually I pick her up and take her back to her bed, laying her down and getting in beside her. I cradle her in my arms until her sobs subside and her breathing evens out. It’s the first time we have actually slept together and since everything began she looks peaceful again.

For the next few days I think that the breakthrough was irrelevant. But then she rings the doorbell on an off night and she’s holding a six pack. It makes me think of 5 years ago and it’s comforting. We sit at opposite ends of the couch like a normal brother and sister. We watch a bad movie in silence. When she leaves at the end of the night I realize she hasn’t said a word. But I still can’t help feeling happy.

She’s back the next night for our usual routine and we quickly settle into a new rhythm. Half the week she’s my foster sister, the other half, my lover. It’s as is if what fractured the night of LaGuerta’s death has broken into two jagged pieces. The nights she is my sister she begins to talk, smile, sometimes even laugh. But the nights she is my lover, she is still that monster in the shadows. I want to put the two pieces together, to mend the break. But I have no idea how.

* * *

It’s several weeks later when Angel starts acting oddly around me. I’m immediately suspicious. Deb is too. After one particularly strange interaction Deb gives me the eye and I follow her out of the station and down to the docks. “He knows.” She stares over the water with her back to me.

“Yeah. But how much?”

She sighs, her shoulders slumping. “Does it matter?” I hear the accusation in her voice. She knows what I am already thinking-Should I take out Angel before he becomes a problem. After all, waiting too long to go after LaGuerta was what got us here.

“She must have told him something. Sent something.” I avoid the name because the mere mention causes Deb’s complexion to blanch.

She nods in agreement. “I’ll try to find out what.”

“No.” My harsh tone causes her to turn towards me. “You are not getting involved this time.”

“What difference does it make? I’m already fucked.”

I frown at her concerned. “Has he said something to you? Acted strangely?”

“I’m fucked because of me Dex.” She says it so simply that I feel like I’ve been kicked.

* * *

I promise to keep Deb informed if she’ll promise not to talk to Angel. She reluctantly agrees, but I know I’ll need to get answers quickly if I want her to stick to that promise.

It’s easier to stalk someone you already know. Their routine is familiar and I sneak into Angel’s house when I know he’s at a crime scene. He wouldn’t keep anything at work if he suspects me. But as smart as he is to leave nothing at work, I guess he’s assumed I wouldn’t come here to look. The evidence is piled on his coffee table. On the couch there is a piece of paper which has been read and re read, folded and unfolded. I pick it up. It’s from Maria, a final plea for Angel to believe her.

She knew I would target her and she made sure that some of her research would make it out. Despite me clearing her house and office, there are copies here that are fairly damning. I’m somewhat relieved to see that it all implicates me. LaGuerta’s final work involving Deb has not made it into the pile.

It’s bad. Fucking bad. I don’t know a way out of this one that doesn’t end with Angel’s unbeating heart.

I’m tempted not to tell Deb the details, but it’s become impossible to hide anything from her now. She looks sick when I finish. She swallows a couple of times before she speaks, as if she’s trying to get rid of a bad taste. “Now what?” When I don’t answer she walks out.


	3. Unexpected

With only a small amount of my assistance Deb has managed to track down my calculating fiend. He is a banker or accountant or something equally unassuming which would result in his neighbors saying “He always seemed like such a nice guy.” I wonder who taught him how to blend in.

I watch the interview on the tv in the office. Deb is playing it well. Her time interacting with me allows her special access to these kinds of sociopaths. Despite her efforts he is not looking to brag. And even though our evidence is decent, it’s not enough to keep him. Deb’s hopes of getting his confession have been misplaced.

He gives Deb a look as she leaves the interview room and my blood runs cold. Her unsuccessful attack has put her on his radar. And unfortunately, Deb is exactly his type. Looks like I have something else to worry about now.

* * *

Angel and I are in a stalemate for the time being. He saw what happened when Maria tried to arrest me and he knows no one will believe him. He can’t turn to Deb and without LaGuerta he has no close friends in the upper echelon to go to. And of course he’s concerned for his life. He tries to act normal with me but he kind of sucks at it. I worry he will turn to Quinn, who has doubted me for long enough, and will side with Angel readily. But apparently, Angel hasn’t figured that out yet. At least he hasn’t mentioned anything to Jaime. I guess he realizes she’s safe as long as she doesn’t know.

I sit outside of Angel’s house and wait. I can’t decide what to do. Deb and I have discussed nothing and I have no desire to broach the subject with her. If I decide to kill Angel she will not be helping me. We both know that already. But neither of us is sure whether she will try to talk me out of it. I start my engine and head towards Deb’s house. I want her to stay out of it, but I also need to figure out what is going on in her head.

* * *

I see the car parked a few doors down from Deb’s house. In the pale moonlight I can make out the shape of a sole occupant, watching the house carefully. Seems I was right about Deb’s new buddy. I know it will be several days more before he will strike, but I’m still glad that Deb will not be alone tonight. I park in the drive and walk up to her door, pretending not to notice I’m being watched.

Deb is tensely pacing between her living room and kitchen when I knock on the door. She scowls at me when she sees me and moves to let me in.

“I can’t let you fucking go near Angel. You hear me?” Her voice is a harsh reprimand.

“What do you expect me to do then? You want him to get even closer? Like LaGuerta did? It’s only a matter of time before he starts to suspect you then.” I’m incredibly frustrated that she feels the need to interfere as usual.

“God fucking damn it! Haven’t I fucking done enough?!” She pushes against me. She’s teetering on the edge of something dangerous. “After what I did…” She looks at me desperately. She still can’t say it out loud.

“That’s why you need to let me handle this.” It comes out as a half growl, an almost threat. “Let me deal with Angel.”

“You mean let you fucking kill him?!” She’s shrieking now, her voice breaking over the words. “Cause that’s what it all comes down to, right Dex?”

“It’s necessary. I have to protect you. Why are you trying to make it harder to do that?”

“I don’t need that kind of fucked up protection.” She frowns at me. It fuels my frustration and I feel the seams bursting.

“Yes you do!” I’m screaming now too. “I have protected you from the beginning and I always will whether you like it or not! That’s what I want to do with Angel and what I wanted to do with LaGuerta and Hannah. If I protected you from my brother then I will damn well protect you from whoever else I need to!”

We stare at each other for a long time and I watch as Deb’s eyes slowly widen. When she finally speaks I have to strain to hear her. “What did you do?” Her expression is blank as she waits for an answer.

I finally find my voice. “What I had to do.” She doesn’t need more of an explanation, the pieces are easy to put together.

“For me?” I can see her grasp onto it. This idea that I had chosen her. I take a step closer to her and reach for her as I tell her “Yes.”

She’s shaking when I wrap my arms around her and press a kiss to her forehead. She crumbles into me slowly. She’s not crying, but as I hold her she only seems to shake more. My lips find her neck and I kiss her there. She gasps, but her arms slide around to my back and the shaking seems to decrease. I kiss further down her neck, across her collarbone, push aside her shirt so I can find my way over her shoulder. She whimpers and I pull back. Her eyes are hooded, a new sort of heat emanating from them. She looks different than when I normally touch her. The cold hardness in her eyes replaced by a warmth and passion I have never witnessed. It fills me up, leaves me gasping for air and my heart racing.

She leans towards me, her lips finding mine. The kiss is unexpected and so completely new. The ferocity of her previous kisses gone and replaced by a tenderness I didn’t know we could find. I catch my hands sliding up her back, under her shirt as she deepens the kiss. Our feet are moving of their own accord as we strip off pieces of clothing. We’re half naked in her bedroom before I have really registered what is happening.

I stop and pull back and she thinks I am abandoning her. She makes a protesting noise, but in the next moment I am laying her down on the bed. I hover over her and stare, trying to absorb the moment. Locking away a memory because I worry she will never be like this with me again.

We make love for the first time. It’s slow and sweet and every moan from her lips thrills me. She allows me on top, in control. Her long legs wrap around my hips. Her fingers brush across my skin. Tonight we are not monsters. Tonight I am home.

We lay naked and entwined in her bed. I cover Deb’s hand with my own over my chest and listen to her soft breathing. She hasn’t said anything, but I know she is awake and worrying over the problem with Angel. There aren’t a lot of options left to us, but there is one we haven’t discussed.

“We could leave Miami.” I say it with hesitation. It takes her so long to say anything that I look down at her and find her staring at me.

“We could take Harrison, leave the country.” My voice takes on a conviction as I say this, but I’m not sure I feel it.

“That’s what Dad would have wanted you do to.” Deb’s voice is flat.

“Yes, he told me it might come to that.”

“Is that what you really want?”

I think about this for a long time. Should we escape? Make a new life in a new country? We could tell people we are married, that Harrison is our son. We could become some quiet American family in a foreign country with new identities. No one would think anything of the unobtrusive husband and father with the murderous hobby.

I stop ruminating and look back down at Deb. “What do you want?”

She seems nearly perplexed by my question. When she answers she sounds resigned. “I don’t know anymore Dex.”


	4. Truth

_The night is filled with inevitability. I see it in the full moon hung low in the sky. My fingers ache with the certainty of it all. I’m ready and willing and it’s all about to fall into place._

I pull up outside the shipping container and step out of the car. I stare at it for a long moment. I’m not sure what made me come here. There were other places I could have taken him. But something about this choice felt complete. I take a glance around before I open the back of the car and haul the unconscious body through the container door.

He’s well strapped down and I’m ready. Anxious for the moment I know is coming. I watch his eyes open, the recognition in them as he fixes onto me. The fear of being helpless on my table is clear and I grin in satisfaction.

“You’re the brother of that bitch Lieutenant.” My bloodthirsty friend is pulling against his restraints. “What the fuck man?”

“I see you’ve done your research. But your research didn’t cover all of this now did it?” I gesture around; point out the pictures of his victims on the wall. I walk over to him, press my knife against his throat. “And don’t call my sister a bitch.” I growl.

He whimpers and stumbles over some sort of apology. Too little too late. I circle him. “Anyways, my relationship with Deb is….complicated. Foster sister, lover, something like that.” He eyes me skeptically but decides with better judgment not to comment. “But I should thank you for targeting her. After all, that is what brought you here tonight. To my table.” I lean over him menacingly, enjoying the way he tries to swallow the lump in his throat.

I step back from the table and examine my knife while he watches. “Hunting you down was very good for me. Helped me come to a few conclusions, figure some things out. Of course the biggest conclusion was something I already knew. That I have to protect Deb at all costs. That’s what tonight is about. Protecting her from you first. Then when I’m done here I will take care of the other situation which she needs protection from.”

My friend doesn’t respond. He’s too busy being scared for his life. I sigh dramatically, “You know I thought you would be more entertaining.” I lift my knife and plunge it into his chest. The steel pierces his flesh in the most satisfying way and that energy moves up my arms and across my whole being. I sigh and relax and then the movement catches my eye. I look up and find Deb standing near the door, her gun raised.

“Fuck Dex.” She looks terrified. That same expression when she walked in on me hovering over LaGuerta. I let go of the knife, remove my gloves and take a step back. “It’s just that guy that got away last week.” I say quietly.

Deb chances a glance towards the body and squints. She moves a step closer to be sure, then sighs with relief and allows the grip on her gun to loosen slightly. “I thought you had brought Angel here.”

“I wouldn’t have left a note to meet me here if Angel was on the table.” I tell her reasonably. She looks at me warily but nods.

“Then why am I here?” She phrases the question, but she already knows the answer.

I watch as her gun lowers and I step closer to her, closing the distance between us. I look into her eyes and I know that we were always destined to come to this point. This is always how it was meant to be. It feels so peaceful. And I know Deb feels it too. She is crying now, but I can see the understanding in her eyes. We have both finally accepted what was always waiting for us.

I take her face between my palms and wipe the tears away with my thumbs. “It was always you Deb. The only one I ever loved.” I press my lips to hers and savor the moment.

* * *

The shot reverberates against the walls of the shipping container. Dexter’s eyes are open and I watch the life drain out of them. My hand falls away from the gun wedged between us as I feel his palms slip from my cheeks. I catch him as his body gives way and we are both on the ground suddenly, my arms wrapped around him.

I don’t cry the way I might have expected to. I don’t scream or wail. It’s quiet sobs that escape my lips, the tears falling everywhere. I kiss him softly. His forehead, his cheek, his lips, over and over and over. I chant his name like a prayer. I beg for his forgiveness, though I already know I have it. And I tell him that I love him.

We both knew it had come to this. We knew how this would end. From that moment I walked into the church. Maybe even before that. But that doesn’t make it easier.

It takes a long time before I am able to stop touching him. Even longer before I can get myself to my feet and call it in. I would have preferred to do this differently, but I don’t have the strength for that number of lies. As it is there are too many and the pile will be added to tonight.

The cavalry arrives quickly, but when they see the people involved they don’t know what to do. I see them around me, but I still stare at Dexter’s unmoving body. Quinn’s the first arrival who has the balls to approach me. He stares at me wordlessly for a long time, but then he puts his arm on my back and slowly nudges me out into the night air. I don’t take my eyes off of Dexter until the last possible moment.

I’m sitting in the back of an ambulance with a blanket around my shoulders before anyone attempts to talk to me. It takes Angel several tries to rouse me from the contemplation of my blood covered legs. When I finally look up I find his watery eyes looking into mine.

“Deb? Can you tell me what happened?” His voice is choked with emotion.

“He’s the BHB” I whisper.

His breath leaves him in a whoosh and I watch him try to compose himself. “I know…” He wants to say more, but he has no idea what.

“You confronted him?”

“He didn’t want to go in. He wanted to leave Harrison with me and run. I almost let him... Fuck.”

Angel nods. “And then?”

“I finally told him he couldn’t. My gun was raised. He moved closer until it was pressed between us. He told me I only had one other option.”

Angel doesn’t say anymore. He sits next to me and wraps an arm around me, leans my head onto his shoulder. I go over the story again in my mind; it needs to be believable when the real questions begin.

* * *

Angel drives me to Dexter’s and walks me inside. Jaime is sitting on the couch playing with Harrison, her eyes red and puffy. Harrison gives me a big grin when I walk in. He struggles off the couch and hurries over to me in his wobbly run. I fall to my knees and envelope him in my arms. His baby softness comforts me. I see Angel and Jaime hug each other reassuringly and look my way. I don’t want to see their sadness or pity.

I pick Harrison up and take him to his room. I sit us in his rocking chair with a blanket draped over my lap to keep him clean of his father’s blood. I snuggle him close and he looks up at me trustingly.

“Your Daddy loves you. And I do too. And I’ll remind you every day. I’ll always take care of you. You’ll always have me.” I tell him softly. I know there’s more he needs to know. But it will have to wait until tomorrow. I’m too tired now to figure out how to tell him. I rock him until he falls asleep.

_There are so many different versions of the truth. I have mine. And when Harrison is old enough, I will share it. What will he do with it? Will he blame me or his father? Will he be able to break this cycle that started with my father? Will I be able to save him from our family when I couldn’t save Dexter and myself? Only time will tell. But he is all I have left. And I only hope that one day he will understand._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Would love to hear your thoughts :)


End file.
